


Count Down

by CondensationOnGlass



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Anxiety/Panic Attack, Coping Mechanisms, Gen, Mrs Sanderson is mentioned in passing, canon character death mentioned, how to make friends, sally face comin at u with those healthy coping mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13783686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CondensationOnGlass/pseuds/CondensationOnGlass
Summary: Some early-on Larry and Sal interaction. After chapter one, after Charlie gets arrested, after a few sleepless nights, and way too much pacing.





	Count Down

**Author's Note:**

> Its less finished than I'd like, kind of. But I'm impatient with pretty much everything, and my own writing and speed is no exception. I just want there to be more fic. I also tend to make impulsive fic at 2-4 am after having coffee when I know I have things to do the next day.
> 
> Tried to keep this more dialogue/conversation based too.

“I can’t do it, dude,” Larry pushed his hands through his hair. It yanked and snapped and pulled an ungodly amount, but he found himself repeating the action while he searched for words. “It’s- its so-” 

Sal sat there, cradled in the bean bag while Larry paced. Sanity’s Fall looped again. Sal sat so still. The air hung and pulled at every movement. Larry tugged at his hair again. He shook. His arms and hands were icy cold. His ribs hurt. The same sounds hummed in and out of focus. 

Larry exhaled harshly through his nose. His heart was pounding. He felt like he might be sick, something about the rush of his blood under his skin was so unsettling. 

Sal sat up a little straighter. Larry moved another three steps in the same direction. The air was warm and dry and made his throat ache. It was hard to catch his breath. 

“Larry.” 

“How do you do it,” Larry finally let go of his hair. He clenched his hands into fists. Grabbed at his arms. Dragged a hand down his face. Thought about what Sal said, what- 

He pressed his hands onto his face hard enough he saw multicolored spots behind his eyelids. 

“Hey, over here.” Larry pulled his hands away to see Sal leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Can you grab me those- the blue one and whatever other four colors you have over there. I wanna see the brand.” 

“Right now? Now?” Larry’s hands trembled. “What about Mrs Sanderson and that-” 

“Yeah. Now would be cool.”

 Larry turned to his dresser. There were a bunch of pots of paint there, Sal wanted the… blue one. God, Larry’s arms ached. Blue and, green, orange, that dirt brown he mixed in a cheap contacts case that took about twenty minutes to get to look actually brown, the half empty white tube, and the new metallic silver one that still had the price tag. 

“Here.” Larry’s shoulders shook and his breath stuttered. He held them out to Sal, but the other didn’t move to take them. 

“Cool, thanks. What are they called?” 

“Talk about giving someone whiplash, shit, uh,” Larry twisted the paints around in his hands. 

“Cobalt blue, Hookers Green-” He blinked a bit, rubbed at his eyes. “Cadmium Orange- Why do you want to know the color names, just take them. Ugh fine, this is some- I don’t know brown, Titanium White. Uh, Silver something, the tag’s over it.” 

“Cool. Catch,” Sal tossed something to Larry who fumbled a few of the paint tubes to catch it. 

“Gross, what is that?” Larry grabbed it instinctively and balked at the tacky mass. It was both more and less solid than he thought it would be. 

“Koosh ball.” Actually looking at it, yeah it was. 

“What the hell-” 

“Feels weird, right?” Larry tossed it back and Sal held his hands palms up. “You seemed kind of like you were freaking out, just a bit.” 

“Well, no shit, you aren’t?” 

“I did, do. It happens. Are those that weird foil tube thing?” 

“Uh, no feels kinda like plastic for most of them.” Larry shook his head. Either he was losing way more sleep than he thought or Sal was really on some random train of thought. He put the paints back on his dresser and let out a shaky breath. 

“Huh,” Larry turned around and saw Sal scanning his room. “What about that?” 

“Sal, please, what the hell-” Larry snapped. He huffed out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face again. 

“Humor me? It looks like it’d be cold.” Larry picked up the spray painted baseball and tossed it over. 

“Normal baseball. Kinda tacky from the paint. Not metal or anything, just-” Larry sat down on his bed. He didn’t want to fight with Sal and his weird little game right now. He was too tired. He felt so tight and stiff and exhausted. His chest hurt from trying so hard to breathe since he woke up from that nightmare… 

“Cold? You’re rubbing your blanket a lot.” Larry startled when Sal spoke up. 

“Oh, uh,” He ran his hands over his quilt again. The worn cotton caught in the rough patches on his hands. “Nah, didn’t realize I was.” 

“Cool.” Sal leaned back into the bean bag. The filling rustled and hissed, and Sal took his sweet time readjusting to sit on it. 

“You’ve got to be high or something, how are you so-” Larry gestured at Sal once he was done moving around. He leaned back and braced himself up on his elbows. 

“Yeah, Gizmo splits the catnip with me.” Sal shrugged, “It’s some... _thing_ someone told me about. When you get worked up like that, it helps. You’re supposed to touch and smell and look at a lot of things to kind of remind you what's actually around you. It can really break you out of it.” 

“You lost me, Sally Face.” 

“I forget what its called right now. Its questions like find five things, touch four things- listen, smell, taste. Stuff to get your mind off of whatevers freaking you out. And you start at five and count down to one. I usually end it with brushing my teeth.” He shrugged. “It helps.”

“It sounds weird.” 

“You’re not pacing anymore, right? And your voice isn’t so shaky any more. It sounds like such bull, I know.” 

“I mean,” Larry let himself drop to lay across his bed. “Tell me more about it?” 

“Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> They talk about having nightmares after everything in chapter 2- and Sal seems to have them for longer but I mean, hes got some more shit on his plate, I figure he probably got some counseling for shit from before Addison Apartments- even if the 80s and 90s kind of sucked in that respect most of the time (from what i remember but i was still hella young and that wasn’t a thing that was just public info where i lived)
> 
> Sal’s talking about the [5-4-3-2-1 Coping Technique. ](http://www.therapistsb.com/blog/post/5-4-3-2-1-coping-technique)
> 
> First time someone told me to use it for an anxiety attack I brushed it off and thought it was bs, but someone over the phone walked me through it once when I was having a really bad time and it helped a ton. Just adding that there for anyone who maybe hasn’t heard about it before.


End file.
